Falling in Love: Malfoy Style
by TygerZ
Summary: Draco Malfoy has been told exactly what he needs to find in a spouse. After years of his father's teaching, he now has a list to find the perfect Malfoy soulmate. But what happens when his soulmate isn't who anyone expects? SLASH H/D
1. They Must Be Beautiful

**A/N: Three reminders: 1) This is slash, so don't like it, don't read it. 2) I don't own Harry Potter… even though I have spent many birthday wishes trying to change that :)**** 3) Extreme fluffiness may come in later chapters. I thought I should warn you now. **

**Enjoy! **

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There were three things that Draco Malfoy knew with absolute certainty. The first of these was the simplest: he was a Malfoy. With that came the two other things; the manner in which a Malfoy conducted oneself and the way that a Malfoy chose their spouse.

The first two things he understood. With years of practice, he had perfected the art of being a Malfoy. He could be cocky and arrogant, even when he felt as though he was three feet tall. He was also able to smirk and put down anyone, especially those he admired. Most of all, he was able to box himself up and put on a Slytherin mask. In fact, doing so had become so easy to him, it was practically second nature.

It was the last thing that he hadn't quite grasped yet.

His trouble wasn't from lack of trying, however; it was far from it. These were the rules that he had strived to learn the most, purely because there were so many of them. He had even taken to writing them down in a list; adding each thing that his father told him, even if it did not make sense to him. He carried the list with him everywher3e, waiting to either add to it, or to finally be able to check something off.

Sometimes, he believe he had found the right person. He had even began crossing things off before. The farthest he had ever gotten was halfway down the list; until he realized that they no longer fit the criteria. Each time after that he wrote a fresh list, waiting patiently until he would be able to begin crossing things off again.

At the moment, he was still waiting to restart.

The first rule was the easiest to understand and therefore had been the first one he had learned. And although his father had made it a point to teach it to him, it was something that he had picked up on his own, merely by watching. It wasn't hard to see that Malfoys were superior, especially in looks. It was something he prided himself on and he definitely wouldn't settle for anything less.

The problem was, by sixth year, there wasn't many who were exceptional.

Most of the people in his year looked the same as the had when they were older, except for the fact that their faces had matured a little. The only truly beautiful girls he had already tried, but none of them could make it to the end of the list. He had even considered a few of the boys– luckily for Draco, the list said nothing about them being female.

He pretended not to realize that that sort of rule went unspoken. He pretended not to recognize the unwritten set of rules the way he also pretended that he would someday find someone, list and all.

After all, there had to be at least one person out there for him.

The first week of sixth year went by without much event, other then him getting what seemed like constant stalking from Pansy. He didn't mind the girl as a friend, but he had long ago ruled her out as a spouse. Unfortunately, he seemed to fit all of her criteria.

He was being chased by her, quite literally, down the hallway, that Saturday. However, this time it wasn't for any reasons of affection.

"Draco!" She yelled, attempting to grab the back of his robe as he hurried down the corridor. Luckily, he had longer legs and was able to easily escaped her grasp. "Slow down!"

He shook his head, clearly aware of how childish he must look. However, between not looking foolish and escaping Pansy's wrath, he had to say that he picked the escape.

"Draco, you're being stupid!" She shouted. He rolled his eyes. As if he didn't already know that. "I can't believe you said that to Millicent. She was just trying to be friendly! You didn't have to accuse her of being some–"

But her words were cut short as he collided very suddenly with a wall.

He felt his potions book slip out of his hand as he fell. He looked up quickly, searching for the lost object, only to see that it wasn't a wall that had caused his crash. It was a person, who was no staring right at him, also on the floor. A very solid person, Draco thought briefly, not caring to think how irrational that thought was, because the person also had the greenest eyes; he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed before.

The eyes were certainly beautiful, even he couldn't deny that. There was a type of sadness to them that made them seem old and broken, yet innocent and hopeful at the same time. Draco had never believed that such a green could convey all these emotions.

He heard a snort behind him, bringing him out of his stupor.

"Serves you right, Draco," he heard Pansy mutter.

"I agree," he heard a voice say from above. It sounded like Weasley. "Are you okay, Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry said, finally breaking eye contact with Draco. He stood up, brushing off his robes. He stood up quickly also, not wanting to be left on the floor, especially at Potter's feet.

He smirked at the Weasley and Granger, who were still eyeing Harry worriedly and turned to walk away. He hadn't gotten farther then a few steps, however, when he felt a tap at his shoulder.

He turned around, briefly meeting Harry's eyes before looking down quickly, trying to avoid any more contact with those irises. It was too hard to think that Potter could be associated with something that beautiful.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Potter handing him the potions book he had dropped. Draco took it wordlessly. Turning quickly, he continued to leave.

He waited until he was around the corner before he lightly fingered the list in his pocket.


	2. They Must Have Money

**A/N: Here's the second chapter!!1 Enjoy, and review please!! **

It seemed, as much as Draco hated to admit it, that he was now able to begin to check things off his list again. Not that this usually bothered him, in fact, he typically enjoyed doing so. It was always exciting to think that the person he was considering could be the one. However, this time, the person causing him to pull out his list was none other than Harry Potter.

He didn't think that he had ever been more disgusted with himself.

He almost wanted to pretend that he had never seen the beauty that Potter's eyes held, but he found himself unable to do so. He couldn't help seeing that green whenever he blinked; couldn't stop himself from staring at them when Potter passed him. He found that he had no choice but to cross beauty off the list, because he figured that the sooner he did this, the sooner he would be able to find where Potter would stop meeting his requirements. Then, he could finally forget the green-eyed wizard.

Lucky for him, the next item on his list stated very clearly that they had to have money. Although Draco guessed that Potter's parents left him some sort of fortune; Potter obviously didn't know how to use it, judging by the clothes he wore. It wasn't enough to just have money; what was the point of being rich if you did not spend it?

Breakfast in the Great Hall that morning was a frenzy. Dumbledore had made an announcement that morning, stating that to encourage inter-house unity , there would be a ball two months from then, just before Christmas break.

The Hall was split into two groups. Most of the girls, including a few select boys, were talking excitedly with their friends, already planning on what they would be wearing, or who they'd be going with. The rest were looking slightly shocked and wary; clearly not happy with Dumbledore's decision.

Draco wasn't surprised to see that Potter fell into the second group. He could remember Potter's disastrous dancing attempt at the Yule Ball in forth year.

Weasley was also not looking happy, although Granger was talking cheerfully with the Weaselette. Draco found it strange that the youngest redhead didn't seem half as excited as the Mudblood did. In fact, she seemed almost hesitant.

Draco watched her separate herself from the group. Granger shrugged at her exit and turned her attention to Weasley instead, who didn't look happy about having to listen to talk of the ball. Potter stood up quickly, seeming to Draco as though this was simply to escape Weasley's predicament.

He watched as Potter swiftly left the Hall. He couldn't help but wonder faintly if he was following the Weaselette.

However, he quickly repressed that thought. He didn't like the jealous feeling that he felt accompany it.

A few days passed, although the time had done nothing to still conversations about the upcoming Ball. Breakfast discussion still had a lot of talk about it, especially since students had began getting invitations from someone to go with them to the Ball. The squeals from the girls receiving them with their post could be heard from across the Hall, and usually launched their table into more discussion about it.

Draco was surprised to see that the Weaselette still looked down about it, even though he knew she was going with Longbottom. The thought of going with Longbottom disgusted him, but he assumed that it would at least have cheered her up.

It wasn't until an owl delivered something in front of her, that her face changed expression. Her watched her mouth fall open, as the others did around her also, as she opened the box and pulled out a pair of dress robes.

Draco's mouth almost fell open also. The dress robes were beautiful and they were obviously expensive.

Slowly, a smile came onto the redhead's face, and it wasn't long after that that she chimed in with the other girls at her table, now talking excitedly. However, the conversation was no longer about the Ball, instead, it was about who could have sent the dress robes.

Draco didn't miss the small smile on Potter's face, or his blank expression when he was asked if he knew who the sender could be. Draco had seen Potter lie before, and he knew the signs.

Slightly annoyed, Draco pulled out his list.


	3. They Must Be Intelligent

**They Must Be Intelligent **

**A/N: Okay, a few things that I think I should clear up, since I never did state them and I have gotten a few questions already. First, while each chapter is very much like a little one-shot, they do follow a small plot. Second, Voldemort is alive is this story. For the moment, Draco does not know of any active fighting, but there will be more of this later on. Basically, this fic is replacing the sixth book, although there will not be a lot of mention of the past books. So, if you choose to read it as though it was its own world, that will work too. :)**

**Anyway, now on to the chapter!!! Enjoy! **

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Potions was easily Draco's favorite class. He loved the smell of a potion simmering. He loved chopping ingredients; the feel of them in his hand and the sound they made when he cut them. Potions came with instructions, there was never any guesswork. He knew exactly what to do to get the result he wanted and as long as he followed the steps, he couldn't be wrong. Mostly, he loved potions because creating them was much like creating a Malfoy. He had been raised not only to follow certain rules, but also to enjoy becoming exactly what you were meant to be.

It didn't hurt that the professor usually favored him as well.

Usually, because at the moment, Snape wasn't showing him any preference at all. In fact, Snape had done probably the worst thing he could do to Draco in a potions class.

He had paired Draco with Potter.

Logically, Draco knew that this was more to torture Potter then himself, but he couldn't help but be annoyed with Snape. Potter was hopeless with potions and working with him would cause extra work and attention on Draco's part.

He didn't want to admit the other reasons he didn't want to work with Potter. He didn't want to acknowledge that the worst part of the arrangement was that he'd have to stand close to Potter and talk to him; maybe even look him in the eyes.

He didn't want to realize that the heat in his cheeks had nothing to do with the increased temperature in the classroom.

"Malfoy," Potter muttered in a greeting, his eyes fixed on the table where he was dumping the ingredients he had brought over.

Draco inclined his head slightly.

"Let's just get this over with, Potter," he said, grabbing the root they needed to begin and starting to chop it up. Potter rolled his eyes, but started helping him.

A few minutes passed in silence. Draco tried to focus on making the potion, instead of the fact that Potter was only inches away from him. He didn't want to think about it, because it didn't make sense that Potter should affect him like this. It wasn't like he hadn't been this close to Potter before.

"Potter," Draco snapped, taking his frustration out on him. After all, Potter was the cause of it. "Hand me that knife."

Wordlessly, Potter passed it to him. As Draco reached out to take it, their hands brushed slightly.

It was as though burning water had ran through his hand to the rest of his body. He hurriedly turned to the ingredients, not wanting Potter to see the heat creeping onto his face. His head was spinning. Most of him was trying to remain standing, although part of him was attempting to understand his reaction to the simple touch. This was _Potter_, after all.

He went to toss something into the potion. He was shocked out of his daze when Potter grabbed his wrist. Almost instantly, he felt lightheaded.

Bloody hell, was Potter trying to kill him?

"Malfoy!" Potter said angrily. "What are you doing? Do you want to kill us?"

Draco bit back his retort about the irony of that sentence.

"What are you talking about?" He snapped, but his lowered his hand. He was suddenly very aware of Potter's fingers, which were still wrapped around his wrist.

"You can't add that," he said, gesturing to Draco's hand, which still held an ingredient. Draco wasn't even sure what it was. "We have to add the daisy root first. Without it, you adding that will probably cause the potion to explode."

Draco struggled to clear his mind and think. After several moments, he realized that Potter was right.

Shocked, he raised an eyebrow at Potter. Surprisingly, Potter smirked in response.

"God, Malfoy," he said, turning back to the ingredients he was cutting, "I'm not a complete idiot."

They finished the potion in silence, speaking only when required to. Draco used this time to think, and by the time class was over, Draco knew what he had to do.

He waited for the rest of the class to leave, before he took out his list. Sighing, he crossed another thing off of it.


	4. They Must Be Able To Lie

**A/N: Sorry about the long wait for the update!!! Things have been a little hectic on my end and I finally just got around to sitting down and finishing this chapter! However, it is a little bit longer than the rest… so I hope that you all enjoy it!**

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**They must be able to lie**

Draco was late. He had been studying in the library and he lost track of time. It was at least fifteen minutes after hours, which didn't seem like that big of a deal to him, but he knew that Filch would see it differently.

He walked quickly, pausing slightly as he heard a quiet sobbing coming from around the corner. The sound seemed familiar.

Sighing, Draco followed the noise, unsurprised when he found Pansy sitting on the floor against the wall, her head in her hand.

He walked over to her, sitting down beside her and noiselessly slipping his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, pressing her wet eyes against his shirt. He sighed again.

"What is it, Pansy?" He asked quietly.

For a moment, Draco didn't think she was going to answer. He leaned his head against the wall, waiting.

"My mother wrote me," she said finally, taking a deep shuddering breath. "I'm to take the mark over break."

Draco's mouth fell open with shock.

"What?" He whispered. "Isn't it too early? My parents haven't said anything–"

"They won't bother you yet, Draco," she said bitterly, "he only wants me now. I think it's to make up for my parents being shitty Death Eaters. I don't know."

She paused, staring up sadly at Draco.

"Draco, what can I do?" She said, another sob cracking her voice. "I can't do that; be that. But I have to."

Draco didn't' say anything, instead, pulled her closer. They both knew that there wasn't anything he could say. Unless she wanted to be disowned. Or killed.

Out of the corner of his eye; a small movement caught his eye. He felt his stomach drop. He knew, without knowing how he did, who that was. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth.

"Potter, I know you're there."

He felt Pansy jump. A few seconds passed and Draco worried if he had guessed wrong.

And then a sigh came, followed shortly by Potter's head. Draco stared at him as he freed himself of the cloak.

"How much did you hear?" Pansy asked suddenly. Draco could tell that she was trying to intimidate Potter, but her tired, worried eyes softened the effect.

Potter shrugged.

"I was just passing by," he said.

Draco rolled his eyes. Could Potter be anymore cryptic?

If Draco didn't know how absurd the statement sounded, he would have said that it was almost very Slytherin of Potter.

Pansy, on the other hand, wasn't dwelling on Potter's words.

"That wasn't an answer," she said, before rushing ahead, "whatever, Potter. Just go. I'm sure you're dying to go and tell your friends all about this."

Potter didn't answer, just simply stared. His eyes met Draco's and Draco was instantly lost in their depth. They seemed to be pleading that Pansy's words weren't true, and Draco believed them. Hell, at that moment, he probably would have believed anything .

He didn't know how long they sat there, none of them daring to speak. Draco could tell that Pansy was getting nervous and he wondered why he wasn't feeling the same way. In fact, he felt strangely calm.

He wasn't sure, but he thought it had something to do with the green eyes that were boring into him. Surprisingly, they were soothing, as long as he didn't look at them.

Maybe, if he had met them, he would have been more alert. Maybe he would have heard the footsteps before they were right around the corner.

"Potter!" McGonagall said in surprise. Potter jumped, he had obviously not been paying attention either. Draco felt Pansy quickly pull herself out of his arms.

"Professor," Potter said quietly, his gaze quickly flicking over him and Pansy. Draco saw McGonagall follow the look.

"Malfoy? Parkinson?" She asked, sounding more surprised then before. However, her face quickly shifted into a stern look. "What are you all doing here?"

Draco glanced sideways at Pansy, who had gone white. Sighing, he knew that he would have to answer. The question sounded as though it had been asked to all of them, but he knew it was not directed at Potter.

However, when he opened his mouth to speak, Potter cut him off.

"They were helping me," He said quickly, his eyes flickering between McGonagall and the floor.

Draco's mouth almost dropped open in shock. He didn't know what he had been expecting Potter to say, but it definitely wasn't that.

McGonagall looked surprised also; clearly, she was as shocked by the idea that Harry Potter would stand up for Slytherins, especially when one of them was Draco Malfoy, as he was. She raised her eyebrow at him.

"Then why are they on the floor?" She asked quietly, looking down at them. "I fail to see how they can be helpful down there."

For a spilt second, Potter's eyes seemed to sparkle green with humor, but the look passed so quickly, Draco was sure he had imagined it.

"I dropped my quill," Potter said, blushing. He was staring determinedly at the floor.

Draco didn't think it was possible for McGonagall's eyebrows to go any higher into her hairline.

"And they both went to get it for you?"

Potter shrugged.

"We were just talking about the homework Snape gave us–"

"Professor Snape," McGonagall corrected automatically. Potter nodded slightly, but continued on as though there hadn't been a disruption.

"–and I dropped my quill and they both went to get it," he said. Snorting quietly, he raised his eyes from the floor to look into McGonagall's eyes. "How should I know why? They're Slytherins; the whole lot of them are crazy."

Draco felt a sarcastic remark come automatically to his tongue, but he bit it back. Potter was potentially saving him and Pansy from a detention and he didn't feel like ruining that.

McGonagall looked doubtful, but after a few moments, she nodded slowly.

"Fine," she snapped, resuming her walk down the corridor. "Just go to your dormitories."

Draco glanced at Pansy. Her eyes were wide as she watched McGonagall walk down the corridor and disappear around the corner.

"Did she seriously just believe that?" Pansy asked.

Potter laughed quietly.

"I don't think she did," he said, shaking his head, "I think she let us go rather because she couldn't figure out why I was lying for you."

An awkward silence met his words and for a moment, they only stared at each other. Finally, Potter spoke, snapping the three of them out of it.

"Right," he said, smiling for a reason that Draco couldn't figure out, "I don't fancy waiting around to get caught again. I'm going to go to bed."

With a small wink, Potter disappeared beneath his cloak.

Draco waited until he couldn't hear the footsteps anymore before he pushed Pansy gently in the direction of the dungeons. His head was spinning and he wanted to get to back soon; he wouldn't like to get caught again either.

And, after all, he had left his list in his dormitory. He had a feeling that there was another thing he had to cross off.


	5. They Must Understand Honor

**A/N: HOORRAAYY!!! FINALLY. An update. I'm really sorry about the wait guys, and I have no other excuse than laziness and craziness. But, I hope this was worth the wait, even if it is a little short! I also found the notebook with Draco's list in it, which is pretty helpful… XD. Enjoy! **

**And, please review! Now that I have the list, updates might come faster, especially with the help of some reviews!!!…**

Draco didn't sleep well that night. He ended up laying in his bed, staring at his hangings. By the time his eyelids finally fell shut, dawn had come. He managed to get near a half an hour of sleep before Blaise came in and shook him awake.

He lay in bed for ten minutes more, trying to ignore Blaise and his classes that were calling to him. He didn't want to get up. He wanted to lie in bed and at least fake sleep for the rest of the day. Hell, maybe for the rest of the week.

He didn't want to get up and see the damage Potter has caused. No matter what lies he fed to McGonagall, Draco was sure that Potter will have at least told Granger and Weasley. Granger, being the teacher's pet that she was, will have surely run to Dumbledore the minute she heard while Weasley, being the natural annoyance that he was, will have sprouted the news to anyone in his common room that'll listen. Sighing, he got out of bed anyway. If there was anything that his father had taught him, it was that Malfoys never hide, they always uphold at least the tiniest bit of honor.

Knowing that, however, didn't stop him from pausing at the doors to the Great Hall and holding his breath before stepping in.

He didn't know what he expected. Maybe it was some sort of stampede, including Dumbledore himself escorting him from Hogwarts, or at least to be attacked by spells the moment the Hall realized who had just walked in.

Whatever he was expecting, he didn't get. There was nothing unusual about his entrance into the Hall that morning, in fact, very few people even glanced in his direction as he walked to his seat at the Slytherin table. He could feel one set of eyes on him and he very carefully avoided making eye contact with a certain person at the Gryffindor table.

He instead focused his attention on Pansy, who was looking tired and worried, but fairly unharmed. She met his eyes and gave him an incredible look, which he responded to by the slightest shake of his head. Pansy seemed to understand at once; this was not something that they could discuss in such a public place.

Draco left breakfast with his mind still reeling. He didn't understand why Potter hadn't told anyone. To be truthful, Draco was sure that had the situations been reversed, he would have told anyone who would have listened.

But, then again, he wouldn't have lied to McGonagall either.

"Draco," Pansy said, tugging gently on his sleeve. "There he is."

He looked over to where Pansy's gesturing and spots Potter, leaning against the wall, looking as though he's waiting for someone.

"And he's by himself," she muttered in his ear. Draco sighed. He knew what Pansy was going to ask him to do.

"You want me to talk to him." He said dully, crossing his arms. Pansy smirked at him, but he caught the nervous look in her eye.

"Yes, Draco, I do." She said, pushing him lightly towards Potter's direction. "We have to know if he told anyone. Or, as it seems, why he _didn't_ tell anyone."

He scoffed at her, but he couldn't deny that her words held some truth to them. And, it wasn't as though he wasn't dying to find out why either.

"Potter," he said, as calmly as he could, considering who he was talking to and why. "I need a word."

Potter nodded, giving him an almost amused expression.

"Sure, Malfoy," he said, glancing at his watch, "but make it quick, Hermione'll be here in a couple minutes. She's meeting me here for charms–"

"That's fine, Potter," he said impatiently, cutting Potter off. "This won't take long."

"Okay, then," he said.

Draco nodded, glancing briefly into those green eyes. He thought for a moment how they would look so much brighter if Potter would ditch the glasses….

"Malfoy?" Potter said, clearing his throat. "Are you going to spit it out?"

Draco jumped slightly.

"What? Oh, yes–" He shook his head quickly, trying to clear his thoughts. Trying to look imitating while avoiding Potter's eyes, he continued. "Why haven't you told anyone?"

"Told anyone what?"

Draco rolled his eyes.

"You know fully well what I'm talking about Potter. I don't believe anyone's _that_ dense."

Potter grinned at him and for a moment, Draco wanted to punch that smile off his face.

But, he figured that wouldn't help him at all.

"You mean last night?"

Draco almost choked.

"Yes, but–" he looked around quickly and lowered his voice. "Must you speak so loudly, Potter? Merlin, do you have any idea how that sounds to outside ears? Really, Potter, they're called _manners." _

_Draco couldn't help but smirk as Potter blushed slightly. _

"_Gods, Malfoy," he said, "I didn't mean it like that. And I haven't told anyone because it's not any of my business." _

_Draco snorted. _

"_Not any of your business? You're the bloody Chosen One, Potter. Anything in any relation to the Dark Lord is automatically your business." _

_Potter scowled. _

"_No, it's not." He said angrily. "I can't always be the hero, Malfoy." _

_He turned to walk away from Draco, but he didn't get very far before he spun back around to face Draco. _

"_And I understand a thing or two about honor, Malfoy," Potter looked irritated now, though his eyes showed betrayed that, showing that he was also upset. "I understand that sometimes there's something that you have to do, that you don't get a choice on." _

_He turned again and actually left this time. Briefly, the thought occurred to him that he was supposed to be waiting for Granger, but he brushed it off. Since when did he care? _

_Almost numbly, he walked back over to Pansy, who was waiting eagerly for him. _

"_Well?" She said, grabbing his arm. "Did you get an answer?" _

_Draco nodded, swallowing. _

"_Pansy," he said, quietly, "may I borrow your quill?" _


	6. They Must Be Slytherin

**A/N: Wow. It's an update. I am REALLY sorry guys, this last wait was crazy. I'll really try to make them more frequent now. If I'm not updating fast enough, feel free to annoy me about it until I do! **

**And to make up for it, I think that this chapter is the longest yet! **

**Well, I hope that this chapter was worth the wait…. Enjoy! **

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Several days had gone by since Draco had confronted Potter and things seemed to have gone back to normal. Pansy, at least, had calmed down, although Draco was having trouble doing the same. He couldn't stop thinking about the lie the that Potter had pulled, or the increasing number of check marks on the list in his pocket. There was something unsettling about the whole situation and Draco didn't like it at all.

After all, he hated Potter. He hated the fact that he fit some of Draco's criteria. He hated that he had to stick around to find out when he would no longer be perfect. He _hated _the feeling in his chest; the one that he got when he realized that there was no way that Potter could match up to this next one.

He hated not knowing what that feeling meant.

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Days continued going by, same as the day before, and Draco began to get that sense of dread in his chest that he always got when he realized that he would have to start his list all over again. The sense of dread, because it was always a disappointment, knowing that there is one more person out there that isn't good enough for you.

That didn't sound right.

But Draco didn't want to think too much about the other ideas.

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Draco's grading were beginning to slip. Although, that wasn't really his fault at all.

It was Potter's.

You think that the teachers would start realizing that it's always Potter's fault.

He spent entire class periods; Charms, Potions, Transfiguration and Divination, watching Potter. He was waiting for any sign that he wasn't as boring as he appeared to be when he was tuning out Snape or chewing on his quill in History of Magic. Anything that would should that Potter was actually _worth _being observed, that he was more than some rash Gryffindor with a hero complex.

He almost wanted Potter to be the person of his dreams just to prove to himself that he had not wasted all his time staring at Potter.

At least, he wanted that until his sense kicked in. And then he felt almost nauseous at the thought.

Even so, his watching Potter did not come without any benefits. He now knew things about Potter that he never imagined that he would know: how Potter sneezed every time someone else did, how he reread the potion's directions three times and still managed to get them wrong, or how he likes to sneak cereal from breakfast into his robe pockets and eat it during Transfiguration.

All these things may not seem important, but Draco saw them for what they were worth. They were all pieces of Potter, all things that could someday be useful. You never know what information you'll need to have to torture your enemies.

Because Draco hated Potter.

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That Saturday seemed the same as any other. Draco read the Daily Prophet that was delivered to him, skimming through the important stuff and looking for any mention of his mother.

After seeing that there wasn't any, he moved to his plate and eats his eggs in a stony silence. Everyone knows not to talk to him now, if they don't want their head bit off. Hell, Draco's even too preoccupied now to sneak a few glances at the Gryffindor table.

It's when Draco is taking a bite of sausage, that it happens.

There's a loud bang from the other side of the Great Hall and everyone around him seems to jump, all eyes flying to the Gryffindor table.

Looking up, Draco sees Potter, with slowly flushing cheeks and burning green eyes, staring back in shock at Weasley, who has flung himself to his feet, knocking his plate onto the floor as his did so. Granger was staring wide-eyed at Potter too, whispering something to him. Potter shook his head and with an angry sigh, Weasley ran off. Granger hesitated, her gaze pausing on Potter's now downcast eyes, before jumping out of her seat to follow Weasley.

Draco watched as Potter stared at his plate for several long minutes. Everyone around Potter seemed to have scooted away from him as though he had the plague, and were obviously trying to avoid Potter's eye.

Draco quickly ate the rest of his food, wanting to be ready to follow Potter when he left. He didn't stop to think how strange it was that he actually cared enough to chase Potter and demand the story from him. Instead, he convinced himself that he wanted to know only because he was a Malfoy, and Malfoy's liked to be informed.

It was clearly nothing other then that and Draco's need for something exciting to actually happen.

It wasn't very long before Potter stood up and walked hurriedly out the doors. Draco waited a moment before following.

He caught Potter at the bottom of the staircase. Thinking fast, he grabbed the back of Potter's shirt and pulled him behind the statue underneath the stairs, hiding them from view.

He saw the surprised look on Potter's face quickly turn to anger and before Potter could say anything, he clamped his hand over his mouth.

Trying not to think of the fact that Potter's mouth was under his hand (which, for some reason was making Draco's stomach clench strangely), he shushed Potter, and began talking quickly, before Potter got over his shock and got enough sense to pull his wand.

"What happened in there, Potter?" Draco said, attempting to smirk. He was surprised to find that he sounded out of breath. "Did the Golden Trio have a fight?"

Potter made indistinguishable noise underneath Draco's hand that either could have been a _Why do you care?_ or a _Bite me, Malfoy. _

Draco chose to ignore him.

"Not that I care," he said quickly, his smirk growing wider, "but you seemed to be a little upset–"

There was a sudden pain blaring through his foot and he let go of Potter, who was now glaring at him, seemingly radiating rage.

"It's none of your business, Malfoy," he said, stepping off Draco's foot, "but if you have to know, Hermione and Ron found out something today that I had been…. hiding from them."

Draco racked his brains for some sarcastic comment that he could make then, but he couldn't find one. Potter continued anyway.

"They're mad that I didn't tell them, though I don't see how they thought I could, when everyone reacts like this–" he trailed off, his green eyes looking conflicted and tired. "Hell, it's probably going to be all over school now."

"What is?" Draco finally asked, trying to look as though the look in Potter's eyes didn't effect him at all, as though he hadn't noticed how they could look tired yet commanding same time.

He couldn't help thinking that Potter was a mind reader, even though Draco knew full well that he probably wasn't, when Potter's eyes started to bore into his. As if Potter actually knew the effect they had.

"I told them about my sorting."

Despite the fact that Potter's eyes were still locked with his, he snorted.

"You're sorting? That's it? Wasn't that a long time ago–"

"The sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin."

Draco froze.

"The sorting hat wanted to what?"

Potter rolled his eyes, looking irritated.

"You heard me."

Draco might have heard, but he didn't understand at all.

"The sorting hat wanted to put _you_ in Slytherin?"

Maybe Potter mistook his shock as taunting, because instead of answering, he shook his head sharply and attempted to push his way past Malfoy.

"Shocker, isn't it?" He said, obviously annoyed. "Let me through, Malfoy."

Draco shook his head, still slightly stunned.

"Potter in Slytherin," he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. He looked up at Potter and for once, didn't smirk at him. "I'll let you through– if I can borrow your quill."

-----

**A/N: So, you can probably tell that next chapter is going to be something big…. And if you hadn't guessed that, this author's note should be your hint! Lol **

**So, I can't guarantee a quick update, but reviews always help influence me! **


	7. They Must Be Your Equal

**A/N: Because getting home after a looonngg day at school and finding 14 messages in my inbox made my day. XD thanks to everyone who reviewed! **

-------

"_I'll let you through– if I can borrow your quill." _

Potter stared at him, speechless.

"What?"

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. In fact, he didn't know what had made him say that. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, nervously, and he wished that his brain would catch up with his mouth and make him shut up.

"Your quill," he said, trying his best to maintain his usual drawl, as his mind desperately tried to think of _what the hell _he was doing. "May I borrow it?"

Potter's eyebrows raised, almost disappearing into his hairline.

"I heard you," Potter said shortly. "I'm just trying to figure out what the hell you're talking about."

Draco almost snorted. He settled for a smirk.

"I don't know either, Potter. I just need your quill."

"Now? Can't you wait and borrow your girlfriend's–"

"Pansy is not my girlfriend."

Potter rolled his eyes.

"Fine. But I still don't see why that means that you need _my _quill."

"Potter–"

"Why are you even still here?" Potter said, clearly ignoring him. "Shouldn't you be spreading what I just told you all over the school?"

"No, I shouldn't." He said, adding quickly after seeing Potter's gaping expression, "you said it yourself, Potter, that news is going to be all over the school. Malfoys don't bother with old gossip."

"Then what _do _they do, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Give me your quill and I'll show you."

Potter hesitated, before reaching into his bag and pulling out his quill and handing it to Draco.

"There. Now tell me, what's going on?"

Draco unfolded the list, watching closely as Potter's eyes followed it and, tilting the parchment so that Potter couldn't read it, he crossed off the latest one. He folded it back up quickly and stored it back in his pocket.

"I," Draco said, handing the quill back to Potter, "don't have to tell you anything."

"You just said–" Potter started, looking outraged, but Draco cut him off.

"You're enemies, Potter. When have we ever told each other the truth?"

Laughing quietly, he left before Potter could respond.

----

He was walking through the hallway later that day, still smirking to himself. He had to admit to himself, nothing excited him, or made his blood boil, more than fighting with Potter. There was no need for respect, no reason for false pretenses or games; when he and Potter fought, either with words or wands, there was something freeing about it.

It was the pleasure of hating someone.

And although Potter claimed that he had almost been in Slytherin, Draco could definitely beat him when it came to be cunning and witty. The five years in Gryffindor had worked in Draco's favor; had Potter actually been in Slytherin, he would not have necessarily won that last battle.

At least, this was what Draco thought, until he felt someone grab his shoulder and slam him into the wall.

"What the–"

"Shut up, Malfoy," A voice snapped.

Draco recognized the voice right away. He looked around, hoping to find someone around to get Potter away from him, or at least distract Potter long enough for Draco to reach his wand, but Potter had pushed him out of the sight of passing students.

Potter's fingers were digging into his shoulder; his face close enough to Draco's that he could feel his breath on his cheek. Draco felt his pulse racing and had he been thinking clearly, he would have realized that it was from the surprise of Potter and the beginning fight.

However, Draco was not thinking clearly. He was too focused on the closeness of Potter, the way his body aligned almost perfectly with his. He blinked, his eyes opening to focus on the pink lips so close to him–

_What the hell?!_

"Get off of me Potter," he snarled, pushing forcibly at Potter, but he did not move. His mind was spinning; what was going on with him?

"I will if you show me that piece of parchment." Potter said and Draco almost fell for it, until he remembered and he struggled to come to his senses.

It was something that he was finding difficult to do at the moment.

"Nice try, Potter," he said, attempting again to push Potter off him.

"I'm serious, Malfoy." Potter said, strengthening his grip on Draco, his green eyes boring into Draco's. "Because unlike you, I've never lied to you."

Draco just raised an eyebrow, causing a slight smile from Potter that made him dizzy.

"I mean everything I say, Malfoy," he said, looking serious again, "and when I call you a slimy ferret, it's the truth."

Draco snorted. Potter certainly could be amusing when he wanted to be.

"Are you going to show it to me?"

"No," Draco said, rolling his eyes. How dense did Potter think he was?

Potter leaned, if possible, even closer.

"You do realize that I'm going to get it from you no matter what," he said, and now his breath was now on Draco's lips.

Draco didn't even attempt to form a coherent answer, just shook his head. Potter laughed quietly.

"Your choice," Potter said.

And then he kissed him.

It was light, almost too light for Draco to be sure it was even happening, but enough to make his brain freeze and his heart pound.

There was really no way he could have felt Potter's hand slip into his robes.

Potter broke the kiss and waved the list in front of Draco's face. He was grinning now and he let go of Draco.

Stepping back, he said something that sounded like: "I win," but Draco was still in shock and Potter really could have said anything.

His mind blank and blood racing, he gathered enough sense to call out to Potter before he had disappeared from view.

"I want that back!" He shouted, inwardly cringing towards the breathy sound in his voice.

"Tonight!" Potter called back and Draco could hear the smirk in his voice. "Astronomy Tower!"

Draco didn't even have time to consider what that meant, before Potter was gone.

Swearing to himself, he straightened the front of his robes and quickly left the alcove, wanting nothing more than to go back to his dormitory and disappear. Forever.

-----

**A/N: Ok, so, I'm really sorry for resorting to the cliché Astronomy Tower, but hopefully-- erm-- **_**other**_** events in this chapter make up for that. **

**Of course, I won't know if they do unless you review…. So PLEASE REVIEW!!! Thanks! **


	8. They Must Be Attentive

**A/N: So, um… hi. Long time, no update, huh? **

**Well, it's a late Christmas present. But I hope everyone still enjoys it. **

**Sorry for the wait. RL has been crazy and I just finally got a break these last couple of days…. I hope that this was worth the wait! **

-----

Harry Potter was furious.

Everything about him reflected this: from his flashing green eyes to his clenched fists and the way he held himself as he stormed into the Astronomy Tower. Draco had arrived there early, to try to figure his way out of this, but as he saw Potter walk through the door, he had to admit that he was waiting to see Potter come in. The look on his face was priceless.

"What the hell is this, Malfoy?"

Draco wasn't entirely sure that his spell had held. Either Potter was pissed at what he had read, or he hadn't read it at all. Draco decided to take the gamble.

"What, Potter?" He said, looking innocently up at Potter, who had stormed over to him and was now glaring furiously at Draco.

_When the hell had Potter gotten taller than him?_

Perhaps he had pulled a face when he thought this, because Potter seemed to look even more irritated and rolled his eyes darkly.

"This thing, this– paper!" Harry said.

Draco inwardly relaxed. So he hadn't read it.

"It's what you said it was," Draco said, keeping his voice light. After all, he still had to get his list back. "A piece of paper."

"Bullshit, Malfoy," Potter growled. "It's spelled, and we both know it."

"Why do you care?" Draco asked, growing more frustrated by the second. The thoughts of remaining calm were slipping from his mind, as they so often did in Potter's presence. "What does it matter if I carry a spelled piece of parchment around with me?"

Potter chuckled darkly.

"Why do you think I care, Malfoy?" He said. "Draco Malfoy, son of a known Death Eater, is carrying around a secret piece of paper that is spelled so no one can read it. It could have anything on it!"

Draco almost laughed. Potter thought it had something to do with Voldemort! Typical Potter, being such an assuming bastard. He could not be any further from the truth.

"Hate to burst your bubble, Potter," he said, smirking, "but it has nothing to do with what you're thinking. It's no where near that exciting. Now, hand it over."

Potter looked at him suspiciously and raised an eyebrow.

"Not until you tell me what it is."

Draco sighed in frustration. Potter could be so stubborn.

"And why should I Potter?"

Potter rolled his eyes.

"Because," he said, "I know you want to tell me."

This time Draco actually did laugh.

"What makes you think that?"

"Malfoy," he said, smiling slightly. It was a look that went straight to Draco's gut. "You wouldn't have taken out the list if you hadn't wanted me to see it. You like rubbing things in my face; pointing out things that would irritate me. But you can't do that forever, especially if I have no clue what you're talking about."

Draco's eyes widened against his will. Potter smiled wider, leaning closer to Draco to whisper into his ear.

"You like the chase," he said, "you like watching me blush, with both anger and embarrassment. You like the feeling of excitement that you get when you managed to win a fight between us, or even just the thrill of the fight itself."

"Really Potter?" Draco attempted to snap, but it lacked the venom he wanted it to. "What have you been doing; watching me?"

"It's hard not to," Potter said. Draco stared at him and he chuckled, leaning back. Draco noticed his hands were shaking and he willed them to stop. "I mean, you're always around, aren't you? Face it Malfoy; you get off on being my enemy."

He scowled but for some reason, he couldn't find the words to deny Potter. When had he become so–attentive?

He flinched as the thought hit him.

_Oh shit_.

"Potter, just give it back," he said. He needed to get out of here and think. He needed to get away from those beautiful green eyes that were boring into him, reading his soul and mind. Everything about Potter was overbearing to him at that moment. He couldn't stand breathing the same air as him right now.

He knew what he was going to do if he hung around. His body was already thinking on it's own accord; reacting to the close presence of Harry's body.

Harry? Had he really just called him that?

_Shit_.

Harry smirked.

"Or what Malfoy?" He asked. God, why did his voice have to be so sexy? "Are you going to hex me? You seem to like doing that too."

"You have no idea what I like, Potter," Draco spat, this time his voice sounding much more convincing.

"Yes, I do," he said, taking a step closer.

Draco wanted to punch him, but he found that he couldn't move his arms. He realized that Harry was pinning him slightly against the side of the tower, the pressure of his weight tucking Draco's arm to his sides.

"You like flying at dusk, when you can't completely see where you are going," Harry whispered into his ear. "You like bacon and toast with plum jelly, although you have to bring your own because Hogwarts doesn't have it. And you like making lists, of homework assignments and schedules."

Draco gasped. Harry stared at him, comprehension dawning onto his face.

"It's a list, isn't it?" When Draco didn't respond, Harry grinned. "What list could be worth hiding this much?"

Draco didn't answer him. He was having too much trouble formulating words, let alone forming a sentence.

What was wrong with him?

It was quiet for a moment. After a few seconds of silence Harry sighed.

"Ok, Draco," he said. "I can't make you tell me anything."

He leaned back, looking into Draco's eyes. He stood like that for a moment, staring into Draco's eyes with his green ones, until Draco was almost sure that his heart stopped. And then he leaned in, most likely to whisper into Draco's ear again, but instead he felt the lightest of brushes against his lips. It was brief, less than a second, a Draco was almost sure that he imagined it.

Harry smiled, as though he knew what Draco was thinking, but his expression did not help Draco figure out what the hell had just happened, or why he felt as the ground had dropped out from underneath him.

"If you would want to tell me," he whispered, "then you know where to find me."

And then he was gone, leaving Draco with his impossible thoughts and dizzy sensation. Everything about this night was not him; he couldn't explain why he was behaving like a Hufflepuff girl. Or why he didn't even mind anymore.

The only thing that was bugging him now, was the fact that he needed to cross something off his list. And Potter had it.

Draco smiled slightly to himself. He knew just how he was getting it back, too.

If Harry wanted to play this game, then Draco was in. After all, he had never denied Harry before, why should he now?

The fight was on.

----

**A/N: So, there it is! Please review… I know I don't deserve it, but I really do enjoy the feedback! **


	9. They Must Be Able To Hide Things

**A/N: Wow! Look everyone, it's an update! Pretty awesome, isn't it?**

**Btw… I would like to warn everyone for some OOCness, especially for Draco in this chapter. I really tried, but I couldn't change it and still be able to tell the story. So, I'll just apologize right now.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

---

Draco woke that next morning blushing. His dreams had been haunted with feather light kisses and whispered words from boys with green eyes, keeping him awake for half the night. The more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he became. It was clearly a joke. How could it be anything else? He was being stupid if he believed that Harry really meant those things that he said, or that they had any meaning at all. Who could say that he hadn't already told all his friends what he had said; told them about the way he had so easily turned Draco Malfoy to mush?

With his luck, they would all being waiting for him in the Great Hall, ready to tease him mercilessly. In that case, his plan wouldn't even be worth it. Why had he stayed so long last night? He should cursed Harry the moment he came onto tower, stole his list back and left.

It had been a lapse in judgment, he decided. A moment of weakness. He wasn't going to allow Harry the upper hand. It didn't matter that Harry's named echoed in his ears, making him incapable of thinking of Harry by his surname. It didn't matter that Draco got a flurry feeling in his stomach every time he thought of Harry, or about how well Harry knew him. After all, didn't everyone watch him? Just because Harry couldn't help but stare at him like everyone else did didn't mean he should be affected at all. Really, it was more embarrassing for Harry than it was for him.

He didn't want to think about the kiss. He had convinced himself that he had imagined it; that it was simply a side effect from the dizziness that he had felt. If anything, it had been an accidental brush by Harry as he had leaned in to whisper in Draco's ear. Besides, Draco didn't believe that Harry would even make it to the end of the list, so it didn't matter what the kiss meant, if anything. He refused to let himself read into it; that was something that girls did. Not something that Malfoys did.

Malfoys didn't get kissed. They did the kissing.

His plan could easily backfire on him, but perhaps that was what made it so thrilling. It was not foolproof, but he could count on Harry, who had never liked public attention. He made it so easy to assure that although his plan could fail, it would at least do two things: embarrass Harry and remove him from his options.

Harry had really been on his mind for too long. It was time for him to get removed from his list; to be proved "unworthy" for a Malfoy. No one had ever made it this far on his list before and he was beginning to get worried. Not for the fact that Harry would continue meeting his standards, because Harry was far from perfect. But every time he crossed something off, or learned something new about Harry, he couldn't help–

But he didn't want to think about that. He had said it wasn't worth it, hadn't he? People fell in love with ideals all the time. His mother had fallen for his father's looks and money and where that had stuck her? She was trapped and Draco wasn't heading down that road. If he was honest with himself, he was afraid of where this– thing with Harry was heading.

Which was why it needed to end. Today.

---

Draco debated about doing his plan that morning, but had eventually decided that he needed more time. After all, he had to see if Harry had told Weasel and Granger. If he had, then he would have to rethink his plan.

He entered the Great Hall that morning cautiously. He knew he was being stupid, but he half expected something to come flying at him as he entered. He wouldn't have been surprised if Weasley came up to him and threatened him for messing with his best friend. It wouldn't be the first time, after all. However, the other times Draco had actually deserved it. This time, he did nothing.

It was really all Harry's fault.

Nothing jumped out at him though and by the time he reached his table, he had yet to be punched in the face. Everything seemed normal, except for Harry, who was unsuccessfully sneaking frequent glances at Draco. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt relieved that he wasn't the only one worried about the other's reaction. Nothing about Harry's expression gave away his nerves, but Draco could feel them coming from Harry, almost as solidly as he had felt Harry's body pressed against him.

Yes, his plan would definitely work.

The rest of the school day was almost unbearable. He barely heard a word that his teachers said and had managed to make his beetle catch fire during charms, instead of turnning it into a quill. He couldn't help his mind from drifting to that evening, when he'd finally be able to get his list back and move on with his life.

When dinner finally arrived, Draco found himself nervously pacing outside the Great Hall doors. He didn't understand why he was so nervous; he knew that he currently had the upper hand. He wished that he could just go in and get this over with so that he could have his list back, but he was waiting for everyone to come to dinner. The more people who were there, the better.

After awhile, he couldn't stand it anymore. He walked causally into the Great Hall, but instead of walking over to the Slytherin table, he began walking towards the Gryffindor table. He could feel the eyes watching him as he approached.

"Pott–" he began, but Weasley cut him off.

"What are _you _doing here, Malfoy?" He said angrily. Draco smirked at him.

"Nothing, Weasley," he said. "Just wanted a word with Potter."

He chuckled at the surprised look on Weasley's face.

"What do you want with–"

"It's fine, Ron," Harry said quickly. His green eyes focused on Draco's and he smiled triumphantly, obviously thinking that Draco was here to get his list back. He wasn't entirely wrong, but it wasn't going to be in the way that Harry expected.

"Stand up, Potter." He said, his voice challenging. Harry automatically responded to the challenge, jumping to his feet, but his he raised his eyebrows as he did so.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" He asked. His voice was calm, although Draco could hear a hint of trepidation behind it.

Draco raised his voice so that the Hall, who had quieted at the sudden confrontation between Draco and Harry, could hear what he was saying.

"I'm just giving you what you want, _Harry_," He said, smirking. He noticed Harry's eyes flash and he almost laughed. Maybe Harry was right; he did enjoy fighting with him. The fierce expression in Harry's eyes was spellbinding. "You practically _asked_ for it last night."

He could heard the whispers beginning to spread through the Great Hall. He chuckled to himself. _Let them talk_, he thought, _they wouldn't even be close to the truth_.

And he kissed Harry.

It was very different from the featherlike kiss that Harry had given him. He kissed him forcefully, claiming Harry's lips with his. For a moment, he forgot the crowd around them and melted into Harry. This was what his body had been craving the night before, and all at once he understood why. The feeling of Harry's warm mouth against his was intoxicating, creating a dizzy, tingeing sensation throughout his body. He didn't know how long it was before he pulled away, his lips screaming in protest at the loss of contact.

Somehow, he managed a smirk.

"Happy now, Potter?" He said. He was suddenly thankful for his upbringing; otherwise he would have not been able to remain indifferent to Harry at this moment.

But revenge was revenge. And Harry and definitely deserved it.

"I enjoyed it as much as you did, Malfoy," He said and Draco was surprised to see that Harry also appeared indifferent to the kiss. Draco, for some reason that he didn't want to explain to himself, felt a small sense of disappointment settle in his chest.

And then he caught Harry's eye.

His eyes were fire. The emerald blazed green and seemed to be lit with excitement. Draco felt his heart slow as he stare, transfixed, into those green eyes.

"You should go Malfoy," Harry said, snapping Draco out of his thoughts. Harry paused, lowering his voice slightly. "You wouldn't want to embarrass yourself anymore."

"No, not until you give it back," Draco hissed quietly.

Harry smirked; such a perfect imitation of Draco that he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows.

"It's going to take a hell of a lot more effort to get it back from me, _Draco_," he said, turning to resume his seat.

"Fine, Potter," Draco shot back, thinking quickly. If Harry wanted a bigger ordeal, he would get one. "Not in here though."

He turned and stormed out of the Great Hall, not checking to make sure that Harry was following him. He didn't need to.

He was going to get this list back if it killed him.

**---**

**A/N: So, I've been playing with an idea lately…. I've had a handful of questions about how long this story was planned to be. I still don't have an answer for that, but I am thinking about providing two different endings. This is mostly because fics hardly ever end the way everybody wants them to and I've wished a lot of times that there had been a different ending to the fic. One will, of course, be the realistic one and that one would come first…. But I could also do an alt. ending for those who enjoy a different type of ending to fics. If you guys think this is a good idea, review and let me know! Also let me know if you think the idea is totally worthless, because then I won't do it. It's up to you guys!! **


	10. They Must Make You Feel Good

**A/N: So, yeah. This is a thing. Admittedly, however, it was really the sheer number of reviews telling me to write more that made this happen. **

**But in the meantime, I hope this was worth the wait! **

Draco was on edge. He paced back in forth in the Astronomy Tower, waiting. Harry hadn't shown up, even though Draco had been there for an hour.

He shouldn't still be waiting, he knew. He should be with Pansy, who had taken to disappearing into Snape's quarters for hours, presumably discussing her options about taking the mark (not that there were any). He should be working on his huge charms essay due the next day that he hadn't yet started.

He couldn't leave though. It was the bloody list.

No one had ever made it this far. The last person who made it past the first two steps was Astoria Greengrass, who his parents wanted him to marry. That desire didn't last, however, when she accidently walked into the boy's bathroom and saw Draco mid-shower. Instead of pretending it never happened, as Draco would have been perfectly happy doing, she ran to giggle to (what Draco felt like) was the entire female population of Slytherin, plus a few Ravenclaws. He crumbled up the list before he could ever cross off "_they must have honor_."

But this one with Harry was different. He needed it back. He knew what came next.

_They must make you feel good. _

Draco didn't know why he was so nervous. But that statement: "_they must make you feel good" _had so many different meanings. He didn't know what to expect.

For once, he didn't have any idea what Harry Potter was going to do. It terrified him.

"Draco," a soft voice spoke behind him. He stopped pacing suddenly, slowly turning around. He looked down at his feet to avoid the green eyes piercing him.

_It won't happen now if you don't want it to. _He told himself. _It? What is it? You have no idea. _

But he did. And he didn't know what he was more afraid of: Harry wanting more kissing, or Harry saying he liked….

He wasn't going to think about it.

"Potter," he spat, but his voice lacked the usual harshness. "It's about time you showed up."

"I'm sorry." A slight hint of bitterness worked its way into Harry's words. "You left with some explaining to do. My friends were almost over being pissed at me for a few days ago. I had to act quickly."

Draco looked up into Harry's eyes.

"Damage control? How very Slytherin."

But really, Harry's eyes were Slytherin green.

"Shut up, Draco. You may like being an asshole to everyone, but I try not to be. Speaking of which, here."

A lean, tan hand held out a sheet of parchment. Draco's jaw dropped open.

"Seriously? The war's over, just like that?"

Draco was almost disappointed. He knew he was being pathetic, but the flash in Harry's eyes in the Great Hall had replayed through his mind this last hour. He thought it meant something.

Harry blinked.

"The war isn't over. The only war I'm fighting won't be over until Voldemort's dead. And I know you want that too, so I don't think I have the energy to fight with you anymore. Tease, maybe. But I didn't mean to start the battle in the Great Hall."

"You don't know how I feel about Voldemort—"

"Just because I'm pretending I didn't hear the conversation between you and Pansy doesn't mean I didn't."

Draco stared at Harry. Harry stared back, his green eyes calm.

"You read it," Draco said after a moment.

"What?"

"This," Draco shook the piece of parchment in the air. "You read this, didn't you? That's why you're backing out."

The green eyes became confused.

"I didn't read it," Harry said slowly. "I couldn't figure it out."

But Draco knew Harry could lie now. He couldn't believe he could have been so stupid. Why _would_ Potter want to play his game? They were enemies.

"You obviously did." Draco's voice was cold. He felt like he was sinking. "That's why you're acting like this. You want out, whatever. Just tell me, stop making me feel the complete opposite of—"

He couldn't continue. How had he believed that Potter could make him feel anything resembling good?

"Of what?" Potter asked. Draco only glared at him in response. He crumpled the parchment in his hand and threw it on the ground. Pushing quickly past Potter, he ran from the tower.

"Draco, wait!"

He didn't stop.

**A/N: Please keep reviewing. It will help more chapters come along! And to everyone who read this, thank you for coming back to this story. **


	11. They Must Make You Feel Good (Part 2)

**A/N: If you haven't already, you'll probably notice that there is an abrupt change in my writing starting at Chapter 10. It probably has something to do with me not writing this story for three years (whoops), but I'm really thinking about rewriting some of the beginning and developing it more. What do you guys think? **

**Enjoy! And please review. It makes my sad life as a stressed college student better. **

A week went by. Draco was in a foul mood. He felt like he was seeing Potter at every turn. If he didn't know better, he would think Potter was trying to follow him. Although, Draco wouldn't put him past him; he _was_ probably following him, trying to catch him and humiliate him about his list. Why else would he still be trying to talk to Draco after turning him down?

For a week, Draco had been replaying the conversation on the Astronomy Tower in his head. And every time he did, he reaffirmed his belief that Potter must have figured out the list. Why else would he give in and give it back? Sure, maybe Potter didn't mind a few kisses, but the list was titled (Draco groaned every time he remembered) Proper Malfoy Marriage Material. There was no other explanation. Draco would have ran away himself.

Knowing that did nothing to stop his foul mood.

It also didn't help that the only two people who he would usually talk to (and the only two people that could deal with him when he was in such moods) were not around. Draco tried finding Pansy once, but she wasn't with Snape like he thought. He had no idea how to find her, and was too annoyed in general to care. The other person was Blaise, who had gone home to "take care of his sick mother." Draco wanted snorted at the thought. Blaise's family had obviously fled the country; they managed to remain neutral last war, but it was clear that they were not taking any chances this time around.

Draco knew it should make him more nervous than it did to have Blaise's family fleeing already. It meant the war was near. But he told himself he didn't need to think about it, not until his father told him it was time to get the mark. He could keep his innocence, and his hatred of the whole thing, until then.

He couldn't, however, completely stop thinking about the war. It wasn't because of Blaise or Pansy either. It was Potter.

_ "The war isn't over. The only war I'm fighting won't be over until Voldemort's dead."_

Draco had an awful feeling that Potter would be fighting that war for a very long time, if he survived that long. He tried to feel pleased about that, like he used to. But even though Potter had rejected him, the list had changed how he saw Potter. Not a huge change, of course, but enough to force Draco to have a little respect for him.

And to blush whenever Potter walked by.

_They must make you feel good. _

Screw him.

"Damn him," he murmured to himself. He was lying in his bed, staring up at his canopy. He had been lost in thought for hours. "Damn Potter."

Talking to himself was a sure sign of losing it, but he didn't care. A piece of parchment was tucked in his palm.

_Knock it off and talk to me. _

That was all it said, but Draco didn't need anymore. After cursing Potter, loudly, under many silencing charms, he threw himself face first into his pillow and refused to resurface. No one had bothered him. He heard the rest of his dorm leave for dinner, but he ignored his growling stomach, preferring to never see the outside world again. It was much more Potter free in his bed.

He didn't think about the meaning of that thought too much.

He began to doze. He dreamt about the Astronomy Tower. Potter was standing in front of him, waving the list at his face, dramatically reading it out loud. The Weasel was behind him, laughing loudly at every word. Draco was considering jumping off the tower.

"Malfoy."

He tried to run to the edge, but there was a fence. Why? It wasn't there before.

"Malfoy!"

Something was shaking him.

"Stop it," he mumbled, rolling to his side. He wanted to get off the tower. If he woke up now, he never would—

"_Draco_."

It was the sound of his first name, spoken so softly it almost didn't enter his unconscious, that made him open his eyes.

Bright green eyes were staring back.

Draco screamed.

Potter, clutching his invisibility cloak, waved his wand quickly, looking alarmed. Draco heard the quiet hum of a silencing charm.

"How—how the—did you get—"

"I thought Malfoys were supposed to be eloquent."

Draco's jaw snapped shut. Being eloquent was on the list, he thought. He couldn't be sure at the moment; his mind was trying to figure out why the hell there was a Gryffindor in his dorm.

Potter sat on the edge of Draco's bed.

"There were a lot of wards on your bed," he said. "It took me forever to get them off."

He was looking at Draco with those bright eyes. He couldn't handle them, not now.

"Why are you here?" He snapped, skipping the conversation he knew Potter wanted to have about the stupid wards. Draco didn't care, they weren't his strongest. He'd remember to do better next time.

"I—"He stopped and looked down at his hands. "I needed to talk to you."

"Why on earth would you want to—"

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

Draco gave him an incredulous look.

"You know why."

"No, I don't. First you kissed me—"

"You kissed me first."

"—and then you yell something about a list and run off. I thought I was being nice. Can't you understand a truce when you see one?"

"A truce? Please, Potter. We both know that you read my—the parchment. Either admit it and go ahead and mock me like you want, or leave." He looked up at Potter, challenging those green eyes with his gray ones. He refused to back down this time.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! The parchment was blank."

Draco noticed a hint of a spark returning to Potter's eyes. His heart sped up. Maybe Potter was telling the truth. He didn't know if he dared hope; what would that mean then? Was he here to kiss him again? To yell at him? Draco suddenly didn't know what he wanted anymore.

"Really, I promise. I didn't read whatever it said."

"Gryffindor's honor, Potter?" He said, raising an eyebrow. Potter's face broke out into a grin.

"Slytherin's honor. That bullshit means more to you, doesn't it?"

Draco opened his mouth to snap back a retort, but instead he found himself laughing. Potter was staring at him, as though he had grown another head.

"Who would have thought," he said, seemingly to himself, "that I could ever make Draco Malfoy feel good enough to laugh."


	12. They Must Be Willing To Learn

**A/N: I'm just going to put a warning here… the story is going to start getting darker now. I don't want to spoil it, but be warned for the emotional turmoil ahead. **

Harry sat next to him, cross legged on Draco's bed. He had brought his backpack with him, as though he knew that Draco would offer for him to stay for awhile. At this point, Draco wouldn't put it past him. They had put up the wards around the bed again, although Draco added a few more this time).

Draco was rewriting his list. The paper was charmed, of course, so Harry couldn't see. He felt stupid for thinking Harry had figured out how to read it, and a little guilty about his reaction to the whole thing. But now that he was talking, Harry didn't seem like he was going to bring it up again.

Once Draco felt like he had remembered everything for the list, and crossed off everything that he needed to, he looked back up at the dark haired boy sitting next to him. Harry was biting his lip, his quill was scribbling quickly across the page.

"What are you writing so intensely about, Potter?"

"Harry," he said, not looking up.

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Harry. And I'm trying to finish a charms essay. I waited too long to start it."

Draco frowned. He looked down at his list.

_They must be willing to learn._

Draco actually felt nervous. It couldn't end now, could it? Not after he just figured out that Harry still wanted to talk to him. He shook his head. He would just wait, that's all.

"Great to know that even the Boy-Who-Lived procrastinates. It makes us mortals feel much better."

Harry's quill froze. He looked up at Draco, his green eyes flashing.

"Malfoy—"

He threw up his hands before Harry could start yelling.

"I was just kidding! Honest." He gave Harry the most innocent look he could muster. "_Harry_."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well, _Draco, _you should just be happy that the Boy-Who-Lived even finds you worthy enough to sit in your room."

"Sure, Harry." Harry's name felt weird on Draco's tongue, but he liked it. He wanted to keep saying it, just to hear the way it sounded, and to see the look in Harry's eyes when he said it. "How did you even get in here, by the way?"

Harry laughed.

"Nice try, Draco. That's a secret I'm not going to share easily."

Draco sighed dramatically, but let it go. He found Harry's mysteriousness a little alluring, not that alluring was a word Draco ever thought he would be using to describe Harry Potter. Pushing that thought aside, he leaned forward a little towards the other boy, smirking at him.

"Luckily I don't back down easily then."

IIIIIII

Draco was feeling pretty good. Much better than the last week. Harry had stayed in his dorm until almost eleven, when he had realized what time it was and, after swearing loudly, practically ran out of the dorm, saying something about meeting Ron and chess. Which left Draco staring at the now empty spot on his bed, his mind reeling. He looked down at the list in his hands, remembering his moment of doubt earlier. He was now determined to keep waiting. There was something about Harry. Not Potter, the boy Draco had fought with for the past five years, but Harry, the boy who snuck into the Slytherin dorms to make Draco talk to him, whose green eyes flashed when discussing the war and lit up when he finished an essay. If Draco thought about all of this too much, he would panic. But thinking only about _Harry_ was much easier. Until the list was complete, if it even was, Draco didn't need to worry about the consequences of all of this. He didn't need to worry about what his father would say.

He wasn't even going to think about it.

Draco fell asleep that night and dreamt about black haired boys and soft lips. When he woke up, he wondered if he would ever kiss them again.

The next few days passed slowly. Draco could feel Harry trying to catch his eye whenever he saw him. Knowing they had to keep up pretenses, he would scowl back at Harry, but the scowl never reached his eyes. Somehow, he knew that Harry understood.

His thoughts were confirmed when he received a letter from a school owl at breakfast.

_Tonight, 8, your room. _

After not talking to Harry for a few days, Draco couldn't help but smile as he read the note.

"What's got you so happy?" Pansy asked him. Her voice was soft and quiet. Draco looked over at her. He had finally caught up with her yesterday. She seemed so tired and worried, and Draco had felt awful for ignoring her. She said she had been avoiding everyone, but Draco knew that if he hadn't been so moody from the whole list fiasco, he would have made more of an effort to find her. He wondered if she knew that too.

"Nothing," he said, trying to stop the smile that was etching itself into his face, "it's nothing."

"Hm," was all she said. She picked at her toast. Draco realized that she hadn't eaten anything all morning. "Well, I'm happy for you, whatever it is."

"Thanks," he said. He tucked the note away quickly and stared at her intently. "Pansy, you need to eat something."

Malfoys don't talk about their worries in public, but he tried to convey his concern for her through this command. He knew that she would understand it, she knew him better than almost anyone else. They had grown up together, and as much as Draco found her annoying, as much as he knew they would never end up together, despite her childhood hopes that they would, he really did care about her.

"I'm fine Draco. I'm going home tomorrow, mum'll feed me plenty there."

Her voice was strained.

"Tomorrow?" Draco tried to keep his voice even. Pansy was avoiding his eyes. "Already?"

She nodded. Standing up, she waved goodbye to him.

"I'll see you later, Draco. We can talk more in—private."

IIIIII

"Hey," a voice said. Draco jumped, a book falling off his bed as he did so. He had been lost in thoughts of Pansy, who told him when he went to visit her in her room after dinner that everything was really fine; she had it all under control. She had been shaking though, and as Draco left he saw an owl arrive with a letter for her. As she said goodnight and closed the door,

Draco could hear the sound of parchment tearing and of Pansy's sobs. Not knowing what to do, Draco returned to his room.

He had been trying to write his potions essay, but he couldn't stop thinking about Pansy, and about family, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He hated this: the sense of duty they all felt to their families, what they had to do if they wanted their families to stay alive. He hated it. He hated that Pansy was the first.

"Hey," Draco replied, his pulse racing. Harry kicked off his sneakers and climbed onto the bed.

"You look surprised," Harry said. "Did you forget I was coming?"

Draco shook his head.

"I didn't realize the time. I'd been lost in thought."

"Care to share?"

Draco shook his head again. Maybe someday, maybe. But not now. It was too dangerous.

"I can't tell Harry Potter, Savior of the Light, the troubles of evil Slytherins, Harry." He meant it as a joke, but it came out much sharper. He looked down at his lap.

"Maybe not," Harry said, after a long pause. "Harry Potter might just laugh in your face."

Draco blinked.

"But Harry," he continued, "Harry is willing to learn all about Draco, the confused evil Slytherin."

And suddenly Harry's eyes were closed and he was coming closer to Draco. And even though it wasn't the first time, Draco felt very nervous, but he leaned forward slightly to meet Harry's lips. Their kiss was long, but soft and tame. Draco could feel the trust that was forming between them; Harry was not pumping Draco for information, but instead trying to show him with his wonderfully gentle lips that Draco's secrets would be safe.

When the kiss ended, Harry leaned back to look into Draco's eyes. For once, Draco felt like his mask was completely down.

"Harry, I—"

There was a loud _thump_ noise, and Draco stopped talking. Suddenly, a third voice could be heard. Harry and Draco froze.

"—you have to stop with these—damn wards—Draco!"

Theodore's head finally popped through the curtain. His eyes were dark and his face was pale. It seemed to take him a second to notice Harry. His eyes widened slightly.

"I—I'm not going to even ask. Draco, you need to come with me, right now."

"Theo, I'm kind of in the middle of something. I'll be out in a second." Draco said, trying to remain calm, as though there was nothing different going on. As though he didn't have Harry Potter sitting extremely close to him on his bed, both of them with slightly swollen lips.

"Draco, _now. _It's Pansy." Theodore choked on her name. Draco felt his blood run cold.

"What about her? Did she leave early?"

"Draco." Theodore's dark eyes closed for a second, when they reopened, they were emotionless; blank. "Millicent found Pansy in the bathroom. She's—she's dead."


End file.
